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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22394131">Arrow to the Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkFlygon/pseuds/FlysWhumpCenter'>FlysWhumpCenter (TheDarkFlygon)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Theatro Mundi (BTHB 2) [24]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Caduceus | Trauma Center Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, F/M, Gunshot Wounds, Major Character Injury, Missing Scene, Non-Linear Narrative, POV Alternating, Pre-Relationship, Surgery, Tension, Whump</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:15:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,001</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22394131</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkFlygon/pseuds/FlysWhumpCenter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>GUILT getting eradicated didn't mean the staff of Caduceus USA were allowed to roam around freely without risking their lives every minute.<br/>Angie, Derek and Leslie all saw that through a different lense, caught between the memories of a dire crisis for Caduceus Europe and the drops spilled all over the operation table.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Stiles/Angela "Angie" Thompson, Leslie Sears &amp; Angela "Angie" Thompson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Theatro Mundi (BTHB 2) [24]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1453555</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bad Things Happen Bingo</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Arrow to the Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><em> "It's an enticing nectar, laced with deceits,<br/>Piercing straight through my heart-- ARROW" </em><br/>-niki, ARROW (English translation) (link in end notes)</p><p>Written for my (second) Bad Things Happen Bingo card!<br/>https://morbusaegraquescribo.tumblr.com/post/186951923331/here-is-your-new-card-for-bad-things-happen-bingo<br/>Prompt: Gunshot Wound + the original Trauma Center cast</p><p>God, it's already my 2nd-to-last square to write for? That's kinda sad...<br/>It's been a hot, what, 6 months since I've written some TC? Truth be told, I was planning on filling "Sleep Deprivation" with Derek, but then a request came along... I still plan on finishing the WIP I have lying around for it because it was really fun to throw that on a Word file.<br/>Also are y'all ready for Uncle Fly's wacky nervous angsty wild ride because this has apparently shaken 4 people in the same server channel woops<br/>I guess this is set in an AU-ish timeline where PGS was found much earlier than 2021. This is kinda meant to be set in 2020 because why not, but the one mention of the date would rather remind you of 2019. Let's just say Derek is like your truly's and born at the end of the year.<br/>Anyway! The people in the TC server were really excited for this one so I hope I won't disappoint them. I tried some new and experimental things there so I hope it won't be too distracting or too much italics.<br/>Btw, can we bring the TC fandom back to life for 2020? It's the 15th anniversary of the franchise and the year Trauma Team happens in!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As a blurry ceiling appears before her, a soft, familiar voice makes itself heard.</p><p>“Angie?”</p><p>Tilting her head to the right, struck with a terrible case of lethargy, her vision finally focuses: it’s her friend and workmate, hovering over her. She has a concerned expression on her face and a notepad in her hands, clutched against her chest.</p><p>“L-Leslie…?”</p><p> </p><p>As her eyes finish focusing, she realizes she knows this place: it’s a room at Caduceus. Why she’s there is vague at best and undecipherable at worst, but her throat is hoarse and she doesn’t feel like asking questions. She can only guess she still has some anaesthetic running in her system, considering the dull pain she has on her chest and shoulder.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s me, good deduction,” she says with a soft giggle. “How are you doing?”</p><p>“I’m… alive, I suppose…”</p><p>“You can thank Derek for that. He stabilized you before you arrived there. I don’t know how he managed to pull that one out, but I guess that’s what surgeons like him can do.”</p><p>Oh, right. She kind of remembers something now…</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Turns out it was all a trap.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Well, of course it was. Now that he thought about it, something really wasn’t right with how they even got there. They got called for a situation eerily similar to a possible GUILT case, assuming the patient could have contracted PGS due to the former being extinct for the past two years of so. The condition of said patient was declining by the second, so they were rushed together to the scene. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>If he went in like it was business as usual, Angie had picked on the negative vibes she was getting from it all, urging him to go slower and be more cautious. Dumb and naïve as he still kind of was, he preferred running around the place, wondering where the patient could be. As he called for one, absolutely divulging they were from Caduceus (with Angie not-so-silently trying to remind him not to do that and exert caution), the only thing he found was sudden, piercing, burning <strong>pain</strong>.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Wait… I… What happened…?”</p><p>“We wanted to ask you that,” Leslie replies in a more solemn tone. “From what little we could gather, Derek and you got shot when going for an on-field surgery.</p><p>“Ah, I… I do remember that… Turned out that…”</p><p>
  <em>Turns out there had never been any patient, just a Delphi renegade, armed with a gun, few bullets and quite literally nothing left after escaping confinement from the rest of society.</em>
</p><p>“Do you remember anything else?”</p><p>Angie’s memories swim for a moment, trying to gather and brace themselves. Drop by drop, tear by tear, wave by wave, it comes back to her, slowly, surely. She clears her throat.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Before he ran out of bullets, the renegade cowered away, leaving them with nothing but contemplating their own injuries. Hiding behind the wall of a little street, not too far from the stench of the almost-full trash bins and surrounded by heavy almost-silence, they were finally safe enough to open a light. To his displeasure, as soon as he tried to see whatever’s surrounding them, he spotted two things he didn’t like in the slightest: their surgery kit on the ground, half open, and a panting Angie next to the slightly scattered tools.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The first thing he noticed were the two bullet holes she had in her left shoulder and the right side of her abdomen. Fortunately, they didn’t seem to have hurt a lot of vital components and didn’t delve too deep into her flesh. Still, if he didn’t do anything, even with help coming their way eventually, she’d die on them; and he didn’t plan on letting that course of events happen. Not on his watch, never.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He sent a distress signal from his phone to Caduceus, then turned back to her, already grabbing the gloves and antibacterial gel from the case.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I see…” Leslie seems conflicted, to say the least. “At least, you got out alive of this terrible situation. We even expect you to make a quick recovery!”</p><p>“My wounds aren’t too bad, then?” Her voice was starting to win over the sleeping gas. Good.</p><p>“No! Again, they’d have been worse if Derek hadn’t stabilized you on the scene, but your wounds really aren’t bad. That man must have been a lousy shooter.”</p><p>“R-right… Derek tried to…”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Angie? You’re still with me?” He asked, trying to get her to stir back to consciousness.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dishevelled strands of hair move with her quick, shallow breathing. She was obviously suffering, but nodded anyway, the blood already pouring from the wound and staining her pink uniform.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Okay good… I… I can’t afford to anesthetize you, right now, so… I’m really sorry for what’s gonna happen!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her face slowly distorted even further.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Y… You’re not gonna do that, right, Derek…?” She had an awkward, pained smile full of disbelief on her face.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“If I don’t, you may… You may not make it!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She shut her eyes close for a few moments, then sighed heavily, slowly. He expected a rebuttal of some sorts, despite how much blood was spilling from the bullet holes, but she instead smiled and gazed at him with drooping eyes.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…Then, let’s start the operation, Doctor.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ll try making it as painless as possible,” he repeated to both her and himself. “I won’t let you down, Angie.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Leslie’s lips were sewn shut by her retelling of their conversation in the little alleyway.</p><p>“To be honest with you… His job was sloppy. The bandages he put on your injuries weren’t straight. Of course, usually, we’d have had a conversation with him about that, but…”</p><p>“But?”</p><p>“Because of the circumstances, I don’t think we’re allowed to be any harsh on him for rubbing antibiotic gel improperly.”</p><p>“Oh God.”</p><p>“What’s wrong, Angie?”</p><p>“I remember that now. Vaguely, but… I remember.”</p><p> </p><p><em>The pain in his chest was excruciating, but that was besides the point. Angie needed him, right at that moment, to be strong and do his </em>job<em>. He had become a surgeon to save lives and what was a surgeon if he couldn’t do so for his assistant, his most trusted friend and ally? Besides, he needed to repay her for the time she helped Naomi save him from the demons trying to tear his heart apart. With blurring vision and trembling hands, he’d do his job, fulfil his mission. Even if it were to be its last, he’d successfully conduct this operation.</em></p><p>
  <em>It wasn’t like he was the only one in pain either. Angie’s usually soft features were distorted by the suffering he was inflecting upon her by not being able to anesthetize her. Still, as much as he desired Cybil would be there by their side to allow for such a thing, she wasn’t there with them; so it was all on him, with the little he had at his disposal to deal with this. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I kept passing out and waking up, only to lose consciousness again. It was… terrifying. I thought we’d both die here and there, again and again.”</p><p>“When we found the both of you, you were barely conscious and your dress was half-zipped. Derek lost consciousness before he could finish dressing you back up.”</p><p>God, she must have been out of it for her not have been embarrassed to be so exposed in such a creepy context. The circumstances are all to blame on that one.</p><p>“…How is he, then?”</p><p>Leslie goes silent.</p><p>“How’s Derek?” Angie repeats, impatience and fear building in her throat.</p><p>The silence gets heavier. And heavier. And heavier.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The scene was grizzly to say the least. He had dropped blood everywhere his hands had gone for the past minutes. Angie’s vitals weren’t smiling in the slightest, her moments of consciousness getting shorter and shorter each time she couldn’t tolerate what he was pulling her through. It was for her good, only for her survival chances not to plummet to the ground. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was getting there too: he had removed the bullet in her abdomen and patched that up with some membranes they miraculously had packed in (which, considering they had suspected PGS, didn’t make a lot of sense; but Angie still put them in just in case they’d face Deftera or Tetarti). He was on his way to removing the second one, even if his hands weren’t steady anymore and his vision was turning into a guessing game if he didn’t spend a few long seconds focusing on one object. Still, adrenaline was keeping him running, anxiety and fear of death ringing behind his eyes and in all of his nerves, so he’d manage.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Not like he had a choice anyway.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“…He’s not woken up yet,” Leslie finally says with a heavy sigh and her hands twitching right under Angie’s gaze. “Tyler was supposed to operate on him, but he broke down when realizing how bad the damage was.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Leslie was tenser than ever as she presided to the pre-operation conference with Tyler and Sidney. The nervous glance the former was darting towards the latter just showed he knew how wrong the situation was before she could even speak up about it. She had always hated being a bird of bad news; this wouldn’t change today.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The patient is a twenty-seven-year old man who got shot twice in the abdomen. The bullets don’t seem to have hit anything major, only grazed them. The few things we need to be wary about are the high risk of internal and external haemorrhage, along with the possibility of him being afflicted with PGS happening as the patient previously contracted GUILT, these being Kyriaki and—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The <strong>fuck</strong> is that, Les’?!”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Tyler’s voice was oddly serious. The death stare he gave her made her legs shake and her arms shiver further than they had done when she had first learnt of the situation.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“W-what do you mean?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The patient’s name! It’s… It’s some kind of sick joke, <strong>right</strong>?! That <strong>has</strong> to be!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“There are no “jokes” of any kind here, Dr Chase,” Sidney intervened. “If we don’t operate <strong>immediately</strong>, he’ll <strong>die</strong>. Get ready <strong>right now</strong>.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…Of course, Director.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“So… Then… is Derek…?”</p><p>Her colleague takes time to find a way to answer. Her chest seems to weigh like lead threatening to snap the rope keeping it standing. During their few years working at the same place against the same threats, she doesn’t remember having seen Leslie this stressed, this anxious about anything, especially not when the life of someone they both knew was the matter. Then again, Angie wasn’t in the USA, when Caduceus Europe had to break terrible news to their American counterpart. She was right there, in the middle of the panic and the tears she didn’t want to spill. And even then, even when remembering how nauseous she’d get just thinking about what could be happening to him, what could happen would Naomi be unable to save the day —</p><p>Even with all of this considered, right at that moment, Angie feels like she’s just opened Pandora’s Box.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tyler had tears flowing down his face, hands trembling, as he painfully removed the second bullet. It was the first time she had ever seen him in such a state, at least, the first time since Amy had gotten saved by, well… the very man they were currently trying to save, whose vitals kept trying to plummet to the ground as they watched the blood they were transfusing into his veins pour right out of the wounds. The syringe he was holding with unstable fingers had just hit the ground, breaking in a thousand shards and splattering some stabilizer around the crash site.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What’s wrong?” She asked. Not that she didn’t have her own idea as to what was going so awfully incorrectly at the moment, but she was still surprised by how distressed Tyler was. For such a naturally talented surgeon to panic this way…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I-I don’t know!!” He screamed, breathing hitching, hands crimson. I just… I just…”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Before he could put an end to his stuttering, a new party entered the room, dressed in scrubs and already grabbing the forceps on the surgical tool tray.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Step aside and calm yourself down, Dr Chase. I’ll take care of it.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He gulped, but nonetheless, Tyler stepped back from the operation table, right as she moved to dry his tears with a tissue.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m sorry, Doctor, I don’t know…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Enough, we’re running out of time. Please monitor the vitals for me, that’s all I ask.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Will do, Doctor.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Leslie, get a syringe of stabilizer ready”.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“On it, Doctor.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Dr Hoffman’s arrival changed the air in the OR from desperate to tense and solemn. There simply was the feeling he’d manage to pull a miracle like Derek had done so before their eyes before. In a heavy and serious tone, one that didn’t betray any panic whatsoever, he ended the conversation:</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Let’s save him, once and for all. Failure <strong>isn’t </strong>an option.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“If it wasn’t for Dr Hoffman stepping in, we’d have lost Derek. I honestly never saw Tyler gets this wound up by anything in the OR like that before…”</p><p>“That must have been terrifying to see…”</p><p>“And it was! We went over it after the operation was over, and he confessed to me he couldn’t seeing him that way. Makes me wonder how you pulled through him getting infected with GUILT…”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Sidney suddenly entered the room, almost as suddenly as everyone was convoked here, his workplace phone in hand, eyes sombre behind his glasses reflecting part of the neon lights of their lounge. It had been a slow day until now as the GUILT epidemic had been mostly subdued, leaving them with the wiggle room and luxury to wait for a patient to come in; even if that didn’t make any of them think any less of how odd it was for them to be called here so brutally. Still, from the corner of her eye, Leslie noticed something else that was weird: <strong>Victor</strong> was there too. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Victor, who never came out of his laboratory unless forced to, was there with them, crossing his arms as he walked behind Sidney and laid back against the wall. From the gazes she exchanged with Tyler, she knew he found it suspicious too. If even Victor was there, it meant Sidney was more than deadly serious about this.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Is everyone here yet?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Victor was the last person we were waiting on,” Stephen said from behind Sidney, even if the questioning expression in his eyes and on his face indicated he must have been as clueless as they all were. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Good,” he replied as he came closer, putting his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. “Everyone, I'm sorry to have gathered you all here on such a short notice. However, what I have to tell you is too urgent not to.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And what’s that urgent thing?” Victor asked. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I got a call from Caduceus Europe.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The sheer idea of their European counterpart contacting them now, right as they had both Derek and Angie there, <strong>and</strong> prompting Sidney to call them all in was rising all the possible red flags it could. The air got tenser with just a sentence.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And what for?” Tyler reacted with a nervous grin on his face. “Miller can’t have possibly called you just for a hamburger recipe.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Would you mind taking this seriously, Dr Chase?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“S-sure.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“As I was saying, a few minutes ago, we got a call from Caduceus Europe. They were asking for your permission to proceed with a GUILT intervention.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why didn’t they just ask Stiles to do it then?” Victor chimed in again. “He has his own agency, doesn’t he? No need to ask us all for that kind of stuff.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’d be because Derek <strong>is</strong> the patient.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The news cut through the air like a hot blade through glass.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…You’ve got to be shittin’ us,” was all that any of them said about it, courtesy of Victor.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I wasn’t the one operating on him directly, that must have been how… It wasn’t any easier on the nerves, that much I can tell you…”</p><p>“I’m sure it was. We were all tense that day, too… Tyler kept asking me if he’d be fine. We really weren’t sure if Dr Kimishima could… That’s her name, right?”</p><p>“It is.”</p><p>“So, yeah, we weren’t sure at all, so we all were super stressed until Sidney told us it’d be all okay…”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The door to their lounge opened again. As soon as it did, Tyler jumped up from the couch, Leslie following shortly after. Victor tried his hardest not to look like he was somewhat concerned. Appeared before them their director whom, by the look of the traits on his face, was less tense than he had been around thirty minutes before. God had time been slow and cruel on their hands…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“How’s Derek?!” Tyler immediately interrogated, running on legs that had previously trembled under the weight of his worries.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“He’s made it. Barely, shall I add, but he made it. The operation was a success.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A collective sigh of relief happened as Tyler’s legs buckled up again, with Leslie barely managing to catch him before he’d have hit the floor. They didn’t lose anyone today and, in the end, that was all that mattered, right?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Still, with how anxious Tyler was back then, it’s no wonder why he lost his composure when it seemed like there’d be no end to it.”</p><p>Angie’s breath caught up in her throat. The painkillers had subdued enough for her consciousness to be back to its usual sharpness, even with the lingering rests of lethargy from blood loss. The IV in her wrist was just the physical manifestation of that.</p><p>“…what do you mean by that, Leslie?”</p><p>Her workmate’s shoulders tensed as she looked away, pinching her lips, before sighing.</p><p>“We…”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“We underestimated the extent of his injuries…!” Leslie yelped as Tyler’s hands had managed to take out one of the bullets.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“J-Jesus Derek, how could you have still been conscious when there was that in your chest?!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They both stared, dumbfounded and terrified, at the hole very much close to the heart still bleeding under their watch. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It grazed the aorta… If it had been a little closer….”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…he’d have been dead on arrival, yeah. Let’s… Let’s remove that bitch…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tyler’s voice sounded hesitant and about to let a sorrow escape.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The operation continued on with the smell of blood and gunpowder filling the atmosphere of the room. Both were too focused and with too much pressure on their shoulders to let that hinder them in their mission, even if she could notice her surgeon’s grip getting looser by the moment. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Vitals dropping!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t have the time for that bullshit! Inject stabilizer yourself!!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Without a word, Leslie did as told and grabbed the syringe.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That… That fucker just <strong>had</strong> to use his fancy voodoo powers before passing out, didn’t he…?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“How would you even know that…?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A familiar beep resounded again.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“V-vitals dropping!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…yeah, that.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Still, his pupils regularly darted to the screen displaying the vitals. Sweat drops flowed profusely all over his face, more than any other person she had ever assisted before. The more tranquil aura he gave off compared to the failure-paranoid Derek was nowhere to be seen…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The forceps almost fell into the body when it slipped from his hands, the second bullet escaping his grasp and landing near the aorta yet again. Breathing quickening, almost wheezing, he fixed his mistake with a display of cracking down under the fears piling up on his mind. Tears started flowing down from his eyes as the vitals continued falling and falling, the third bullet still doing its damage…</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Oh my God…” Angie doesn’t have the words. She really doesn’t.</p><p>“Turns… Turns out he got shot <em>four times</em>. Your assailant had six bullets on him and they all hit.”</p><p>“That’s…” Her throat was knotting on itself. “That’s…”</p><p>A memory suddenly hit her.</p><p>“Wait, Leslie. You mentioned Tyler supposed Derek had used his Healing Touch on me, right?”</p><p>“Yeah. I’m still sure it’s just a hunch he had, but he did. I think it’s because he panicked when realizing the vitals kept dropping further and further.”</p><p>“It’s not just that. At least, I think it isn’t… I’m certain he did use it.”</p><p>“Why would Derek even do that? He was already injured as it is, he was lucky he didn’t pass out here and there to begin with!”</p><p>“…I suspect it’s because he… knew that.”</p><p>Her colleague stood there, dumbfounded, before her eyes grew wide and she almost bit her hand in realization.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh no, no, not now! It wasn’t time to pass out, not yet. Angie still needed him, he had to stay awake! Issue was, even with all the determination in the world, it seemed like he wouldn’t have the time to… That’s right! Time! He was one of the few people on Earth who could play around with its flow. All he had to do to save Angie was to draw a star and focus hard enough with what was left of his adrenaline and clarity of mind to finish the operation or, at least, what he could finish of it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Success: time was now going at quarter of its speed. He saw everything, now: how to remove the second and last bullet, how fast he could put on the membrane and seamlessly apply it to the injured flesh with the gel, how to give Angie her dignity back now that he’d finished on her. She’d be fine, she’d be fine; he was hearing the sirens coming their way, seeing the blue lights blinking. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>However, as soon as the distortion of time started fading, he felt all of his energy crash back. The world started spinning as he finished zipping her dress close, his hand giving up halfway through as it went limp and his other was too focused on rubbing his eyes under his glasses. Something drops from his mouth yet again.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was no use resisting. The world span and span around him, blurring into one vague landscape of blacks and blues, the sounds gathering together to form a cacophonic white noise looping in the back of his mind. With the tools falling from his hands, he all but crashed on his patient, workmate and best friend all at once, eyelids fluttering as the black spots invading his sight made themselves more and more invasive.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When time resumed its course, all Derek could sense was the darkness of his vision, the coldness of his skin and the taste of copper in his mouth.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, I’ll believe you on that one, you know him and his process much more than I do…”</p><p>To be frank, after telling all of this to Leslie, Angie just wants to cry. This has all been a terrible, atrocious, hideous mess and she’d have liked it to remain buried inside her mind.</p><p>“He’s such an idiot…! He could’ve died, and yet…. And yet he still operated on me!”</p><p>Leslie remained silent, but gave her a candid smile and handed her a handkerchief.</p><p>“That’s Derek for you… I’ve heard he tried not to make you worried when he got infected a few months back too.”</p><p>“That… didn’t really work,” she remarks with a soft of snicker in her voice. “He’s such an idiot… Sometimes, I wonder what stupid things he’d do if we weren’t there…”</p><p>“Saving you, it seems. He realized his wounds were less deep than yours.”</p><p>“…where is he, by the way?”</p><p>“Wait, you haven’t guessed yet?”</p><p> </p><p>Leslie seems genuinely surprised, even if her astonished expression soon gets replaced with her usual amused smile and bright eyes.</p><p>“He’s behind the curtain,” she replies as she points to the item in question with the tip of her thumb.</p><p>Angie’s entire face suddenly catches on fire and her weakened condition almost makes her head go for a spin.</p><p>“Oh God… Has he woken up yet?!”</p><p>“If he wasn’t before, I don’t think he could sleep through all of this for much longer, y’know.”</p><p> </p><p>Tyler’s voice suddenly rises in the room as his hand draws the curtain open. He gets up from a chair sitting by another bed with that dumb grin of his brightly plastered on his face.</p><p>“Geez are you ladies noisy…!”</p><p>Dumbfounded, embarrassed and relieved all the same, Angie just stares in complete silence. Leslie giggles under her breath.</p><p>“But hey, at least you’ve almost awoken my patient by doing that! That guy’s been sleepin’ for the past few <em>hours</em>!”</p><p>Leslie and he exchange a glance, a smirk on both of their faces.</p><p>“I think we should leave the both of you alone,” she then adds. “Just be careful about your injuries, okay, Angie? You’re the more reasonable of the two on that front, so I trust you with handling them properly… If you need help, don’t hesitate ringing for a nurse!”</p><p>On that, the both of them leave, and she isn’t sure what to make of it all.</p><p> </p><p>However, Angie has always been a worrywart, she knows that very much, so she still tries getting up from bed. It’s difficult and taking her ages since her legs feel so fragile and her wounds bother her, her shoulder still feeling very much sore. She pulls through the annoyances anyway, rising to her feet while supporting himself with the wheeled IV stand by her left side, gradually making her way to the other bed in the room and sitting on the chair still left warm by Tyler’s presence. Seems like he was there for quite a long time too…</p><p>Unlike whatever movie was playing back in her head, her eyes soon lie upon a peacefully sleeping Derek, whose face is still a bit too pale to her liking. She goes as far as to making sure he is doing as fine as she’d like him to: his chest is rising and falling steadily, calmly; his breathing is stable, only needed to be helped a little by the pipe in his nose; his vitals are doing just fine on the screen next to the bed beeping regularly.</p><p>Life suddenly sounds very peaceful.</p><p> </p><p>Right as she settles into the seat, putting the pillow she’s borrowed from her bed on it, Derek stirs awake. It’s his eyelids slowly fluttering back open at first, then a little cough, and finally his vision coming to be, eyes locking into hers. He looks somewhat different without his glasses: even if she’s seen him before without them, it’s still an odd feeling to get, somewhat like an uncanny valley effect. They smile to each other.</p><p>“A-Ang…?” His voice is hoarse, which was predictable considering the extent of the trauma his body must have taken.</p><p>“That sure is me. How are you feeling?”</p><p>“I guess… not worse than when I got GUILT…?”</p><p>She’s heard something like that before, albeit differently…</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Right as she settled into the seat, her folder still clenched against her chest, Derek stirred awake. First his eyelids slowly fluttered back open, then it was a little cough escaping his mouth, and finally his vision came to be as his eyes locked into hers. He did look somewhat different without his glasses: even if she had seen him before without them, the time he had spent three days in bed sleeping coming to her mind first, it was still an odd feeling to get, somewhat like an uncanny valley effect. She smiled to him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“A-Ang…?” His voice was hoarse, which would obviously happen considering the extent of the trauma his body had been put through.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That sure is me… How are you feeling?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“…like trash… To say I’m putting patients through that…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s for their good. It was for yours too.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I suppose you’re right, Angie…”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>With relief washing all over her, she put her free hand hand on his, mindful of the IV inserted in his wrist.</p><p>“What about you never do that again? I told you that was suspicious!”</p><p>“I gotta listen to you more often… How are you…?”</p><p>He asked that before too. <em>How are you, Angie?,</em> when she wasn’t the one who had gotten infected by a bioweapon. That man has the most skewed priorities of them all, she swears…</p><p>“I’m doing just fine. Thank you very much for saving me, Derek. Still, if you could not die on us again, it’d be appreciated.”</p><p>He snickers. “You’re welcome…”</p><p> </p><p>Still, and even with her greatest efforts, Angie feels tears running down her cheeks and wetting something under them.</p><p>“What’s wrong…?” He asks, concern lacing his tired voice.</p><p>“I… I got so scared I’d lose you!! W-when I saw you operating on me, I… I…. I wondered why you were doing this instead of sparing your energy!”</p><p>“I’m a doctor, Angie… I save people, so I saved you. I… couldn’t just sit there and watch you bleed out, in pain…”</p><p>“But you were injured!”</p><p>“And so were you… Everything’s fine, now, right? I’m here, you’re here…”</p><p>She sniffles her sorrow back in and tries giving him a smile, rubbing the early tears away from her eyes.</p><p>“You… You’re right. Everything’s fine now.”</p><p>That grants her a smile.</p><p>“Good…”</p><p>Still holding his hand, they fall into a comfortable silence, her arms resting on his mattress.</p><p> </p><p>For now, there’s no point in looking back at the past and remembering how terrible things can get. She can, at least for a moment, let go of all of her fears and remain serene, in the safety of a haven she keeps rediscovering, by the side of her favourite person. There’s nothing quite like the calm that comes after a violent, red-tinted storm, nothing quite the reassurance that comes after getting terrified and nothing quite the sun which makes rainbow after the rain has stopped pouring down.</p><p>Truly, sometimes, life can be merciful and full of light, as long as it wants to shine…</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FzkU7vD5RKY</p></blockquote></div></div>
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